


Touch

by ComicBooksBro



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Caring Dean Winchester, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Hugs, Human Castiel (Supernatural), I too would like Dean Winchester to hug me and pet my hair, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Touch-Starved, Touch-Starved Castiel (Supernatural), no beta we die like men, time to project onto my favs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:21:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25611250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComicBooksBro/pseuds/ComicBooksBro
Summary: Cas never realized how important touch is to humans.----Or: Touch-starved Castiel just needs some cuddles.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 9
Kudos: 202





	Touch

Castiel was not having a good day.

He ached— _God,_ he ached so much it hurt. His skin crawled as he slipped under the covers of his bed, and forced back a soft cry, biting the cuff of his worn flannel as tears streamed down his cheeks.

 _Quiet,_ he warned himself, trying to calm his rampant breaths and will away the longing for touch. He hugged himself, drawing his knees to his chest, but it didn’t help.

It never did.

Most of the time Cas just ignored it as best he could, busying himself with hunting, research, and (now that he was human) alcohol.

But now?

There was nothing to do but try to stop the hot tears rolling down his cheeks, and wait for a restless sleep to claim him.

***

Cas woke up and blinked his gritty eyes, feeling just as unrested as he had been the night before, if not more so. He yawned and stretched, still unaccustomed to all the aches and pains that came with being human. The dull longing that had saturated his skin the night before still remained and he sighed with the realization that it wasn’t going away.

He rolled his shoulders and ran his hands though his hair as he exited his room. He followed the warm smell of coffee to the kitchen and was greeted with Dean, perched on the table and flipping through some lore book. He looked up when Cas entered and slid off of the table, tossing the book to the side.

“Morning, Cas,” he said, breezing by and patting Cas on the shoulder as he walked towards the kitchen, presumably to get more coffee. Cas whimpered as Dean pulled his hand away. The hunter stopped and turned around at the sound.

“Cas, what’s wrong?”

Cas blushed, trying to ignore the deep ache in his chest, the longing for touch. “Nothing,” he answered, forcing a wobbly smile onto his face.

“You can tell me—something’s wrong, I can tell, and I don’t want you suffering if I can help it.”

Cas rubbed a hand over his arm, trying to get rid of the magnetic pull he felt towards Dean. He didn’t meet Dean’s eyes.

“Tell me.” Dean’s soft green eyes bored into Cas’ soul, begging him to tell the hunter what he needed.

“Hold me,” Cas breathed, so quietly it almost made no sound.

"What?” Dean asked, stepping closer.

“Hold me,” Cas repeated, ducking his head. _“Please.”_ He shuddered as he spoke the last word, his eyes burning. “I just—“ his breath hitched “—need to be...” his voice tapered off and he looked helplessly at Dean, unable to take back what he had said.

To Cas’ surprise, Dean opened his arms and motioned for Cas to come closer. Cas found himself unable to move, and realized he was shaking as he failed to take a step. Dean came closer, and gently wrapped his arms around Cas, so gently it was like he was afraid of breaking the angel.

“Is this okay?” Dean asked, his breath ghosting over Cas’ ear.

Cas’ nodded, pressing his head into the space between Dean’s neck and shoulder and breathing deep. The smell of whiskey and gunpowder washed over him and Cas shivered as Dean ran a hand up and down his arm.

A shuddering sob ripped its way from Cas as he pulled himself closer to Dean—as close as he could—drinking in every bit contact he could. He knew he didn’t deserve this, and he knew it wouldn’t last, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away.

Dean did it for him. He let go after a couple minutes and pulled back a couple inches, leaving his hands resting lightly on Cas’ shoulders. Cas barely stopped himself from yanking Dean close again.

“You okay?”

Cas wanted to say yes, to wipe the tears from his face and forget the ache in his heart, but the words wouldn’t come. If anything, it had become worse now that Dean had stepped back.

“No,” Dean answered for him. “You’re not.” He wrapped an arm around Cas’ shoulders and started pulling him to the hall. Cas stumbled along next to Dean, nearly punch-drunk by the warm weight of Dean’s arm across his shoulders. “Come on, buddy,” Dean said softly, guiding Cas to the couch and sitting him down before sitting himself next to Cas. The ex-angel leaned into Dean, plastering himself to the hunter’s side and sighing: half in exhaustion, half in contentment.

“Thank you,” he whispered. Dean didn’t reply; instead, he maneuvered Cas’ putty-like body until his head was resting in the crook of Dean’s arm, and he was laying across Dean’s lap.

“Is this okay?” Dean asked. “I can stop if it’s too much.”

“Perfect,” Cas murmured, looking at Dean through half-lidded eyes. “You’re perfect.”

A rough laugh forced its way from Dean’s chest. “I don’t know about that, Cas,” he said quietly, watching Cas eyes droop shut. _How long had it been since he had slept?_

Cas turned his head in towards Dean’s chest, snoring softly. Dean just smiled softly and ran his hand gently through Cas’ hair a couple times.

Sam came by about an hour later, barging in with the intent to tell them about a new hunt, but Dean hushed him before he could wake Cas and glared when Sam raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Sam would get what was coming to him, but right now, his angel needed him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos appreciated!
> 
> <3


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